Ken, an innocent Kinesiology student, bounced his basketball grudgingly as he muttered about the excessive homework requirements. But it was only as his official Vancouver Grizzlies(tm) Game Ball bounced out of control and over the railing that he understood the danger of doing his KIN 143 homework above that pit of despair, loathing, and bad math known as the Engineering Pit.
Ken peered over the railing. A crowd had already gathered around his ball, and he saw the prospective engineers hiss and argue with each other as they muttered things like "spheroid," "bumpy," "high coefficient of friction due to rubber surface," and "'Officially Licensed Product'?".
Ken didn't know what to do, so he ran. He ran as far and as fast as he could for the Kinesiology department, and got about as far as the Graphics Lab before he forgot where he was going.
As the usual suspects, er, superheroes, um, heroes, well, would you settle for CRAP members? Anyways, they were in the Common Room, lounging, mudding (via Helix, of course) and playing cards (someone had torn down the sign, again) when a fearful and tear-wetted face poked into the room, leaving the attached body beyond the threshold.
"Kinesiology?", the face said.
Ted Man, lounging around in his unguessable secret identity of Tedman, responded.
"No, this is the Comp. Sci. room. You turned too soon. Keep going down the hall, and you'll see--"
"Hey, is that copier five cents?"
"Um, yeah, it is."
"Can I use it?"
The body followed the face into the room as the attached face made a beeline for the copier. Out of nowhere the mysterious stranger (okay, nevermind. It was Ken, alright? But the CRAP-dudes don't know that yet, and I was trying to introduce some dramatic tension into the story. It's not like you don't already know CRAP is somehow going to sail in and save Ken's ball, right? Give a guy credit for trying, okay? I don't even want to write fiction. I want to be a technical writer. You know, compiler manuals, that sort of thing. But I'm about the only English major in the CSSS so I get stuck doing these silly CRAP stories. And you know what? CRAP is the right word for them. I don't care if I make them up, I can still say they suck, and--oh, you probably don't care. I'll get back to the story now.) Out of nowhere, Ken pulled a substantial sheaf of papers, which he proceeded to photocopy.
"So what's your name, anyways?" asked Tedman.
"What are you doing down at this end of the ASB?"
"Um, I was doing my homework, when my ball fell in this big hole, and weird people looked at it."
It didn't take long to figure out what the big hole or the weird people were, but what the homework consisted of took a little longer for our industrious heroes to grasp. Soon the mess was sorted out, when the Sonic Blaster's alter ego stood majestically and said, "There is but one thing we must do. We must rescue this young, innocent student's ball from the forces of evil that we know only as the EUSS! Uh, guys? Wait up!"
Ryan followed the rest of the present CRAPers as they piled out of the Common Room, some making lame excuses as they headed for the washrooms. Only Ken the Kinesiologist and the photocopier were left behind as they blithely hummed and purred to each other.
The Sonic Blaster, Noggin, and Ted Man waited outside the washrooms (Ryan brought his bike that day, so he just had to slip on his Gloves of Griping and Helm of Projection. Erick was already wearing his Vest, and though it was Tedman that left the Common Room, it was definitely Ted Man who arrived at the washroom corridor) as the rest of the CRAPs got changed into their official super-duds. Sonic started up a conversation.
"Nice day for a heroic act, eh El Presidente?"
"Ted Man!", replied Ted Man.
"Oh, sorry, Ted Man! I didn't recognize you thanks to your clever mask."
"I don't wear a mask."
"Oh. Well. Um, good disguise, though."
"Yes," added Noggin.
The now-dressed, adjusted, and haberdashed CRAPazoids stood above the dreaded Pit.
"We should go down there."
"No, we should bring them up here."
"How are we going to do that?"
"Fill the pit with surplus CSSS cash and float the engineers to the top?"
"Oh, I'm sure Elma would go for that."
With little debate, it was decided that they should descend into the pit. As usual, El Presidente stepped forward to take charge of the expedition.
"Noggin, do you have any line in your Vest?"
"Well, I have this number line, and it's infinitely long, but it's only got one dimension so it's be kind of hard to hold on to."
Chia Chin stepped forward, resplendent in a black skin-fit suit with a large white skull logo on the front, complete with tabi boots, numerous kill notches in the large equipment belt, a bandolier of .50-cal rounds to complement an accessory Browning machine gun, and all of it topped off by a dainty domino mask.
"We need about thirty feet of braided nylon-filament strand. Can you do that?"
"Just a sec."
Chia paused, concentrated, and then pulled on his goatee, reeling out the appropriate amount of nylon-filament hair.
El Presidente nodded grimly.
"Now we'll need some volunteers for this extremely secret, extremely sneaky mission which will require the utmost in discretion."
Unfortunately, the Sonic Blaster spoke up.
The Engineers, startled, turned their heads up.
Things were not looking up.
The engineers scurried into their common room at the far end of the pit. Much hacking was heard before they emerged moments later, pushing what looked like a catapult made out of 65-cent pop cans and pizza boxes.
"Sonic, you got their attention, distract them for a moment."
"Um, well, Security wouldn't let me bring my motorcycle into the building, so I can only achieve uhhhhhh..."
"...Fifty percent--thanks, Noggin--of my normal sound level."
"I don't care, just distract them while we sneak into the pit."
The Sonic Blaster turned to the engineers, who were now busy fussing over the catapult.
"Attention evil engineers! You will not succeed in your nefarious task! Please surrender now!"
The engineers lobbed a Diet Sprite can at Sonic, which he caught easily in his hand.
"Oh come on. Is that really the best you can do? I've faced better enemies when I was selling ice cream!"
The engineers catapulted a Nestea at Sonic, which bounced harmlessly off his helmeted head.
"Hah! I've taken nastier hits riding home from school! Try again my foul foes! I'll shout louder so you can find the target that much easier!"
The engineers fired a 2-litre bottle of Jolt at The Sonic Blaster, which folded and dropped him like a cheap suit.
Meanwhile, the rest of the CRAPy supergroup stood around in the pit, some murmuring snatches of 'Creem' songs, as they decided on the next move.
"All we have to do now is locate the basketball. Patman! Do you have anything in your PatFutilityBelt(tm) that might do the trick?"
"Well, I have this stale bottle of really toxic spider antivenom, and--"
"Wait a minute. Is the antivenom really toxic, or is the spider really toxic?"
"I don't know, but--"
"This is terrible! How can we use the antivenom if it's toxic? Patman! Think hard!"
"My knowledge of toxicology suggests that a toxic antivenom wouldn't be very useful, but it is a FutilityBelt, after all..."
"Darnit, that won't do! We need more power! You must get the dilithium crystals stable!"
El Presidente was interrupted by a small, scholarly-looking man who came from off-camera to remind him that this was actually an SFU parody story, and not a crummy Trek fanfic.
"Disregard that last line. What I meant to say was: any suggestions?"
"Well, we could make The Friendly Hulk very angry, and sort of point her at the engineers..."
"It won't work! Kaye's on Co-op this semester, and The Friendly Hulk, uh, went with her, or something...hey! The engineers are gone."
El Presidente was only covering up badly for blurting out the Friendly Hulk's secret identity, but it was true that the engineers had returned back into their common room, towing the catapult behind them. More muttering, and the distinctive mega-bug-zapper sounds of an arc-welder came from within. Moments later, the engineers wheeled out what looked like a giant laser cannon made out of empty pop cans and pizza boxes. Then something happened, and a bright flash appeared from the machine, about where you'd expect it to emit a laser beam, and emitted a beam that went well over the heads of the pool of CRAP members and hangers-on at the other end of the pit, looking suspiciously like a laser beam, until it hit a glass block behind the CRAPamaniacs, punching a neat three-inch diameter hole in the block, suspiciously like what you'd expect from a high-powered laser blast.
Patman spoke first.
"I'm using my knowledge of, uh, laserology which suggests that that was a big laser blast."
"Noggin, can you use your knowledge of mathematics to predict the effect if that beam hits one of us?"
They waited as Noggin paused, flashed a short smile, and continued.
"If it hits someone, it will hurt."
The assembled CRAP pondered this new revelation. Finally, El Presidente spoke once more.
"Well, this makes the situation only that much more urgent. Coiffure Rangers! Distract those engineers! Ted Man! Use your amazing powers over networked computers to see if you can find out where the engineers put the basketball. CRAP team, go!"
The Coiffure Rangers successfully baffled and amazed the engineers, who were then further baffled and amazed as the moon came out. Abandoning their efforts to zap CRAP, they pointed the laser at the moon and attempted to burn 'EUSS RULES' into the moon's face. The Coiffure Rangers watched, baffled and amazed.
Meanwhile, Ted Man returned to report to El Presidente.
"For some reason the networked crashed. But just before it did, I was able to discover where they hid the ball."
"Excellent! How did you manage it?"
"Well, actually I was reading Netnews. They were bragging about where they hid the ball in sfu.general."
"Netnews? What a waste of time! Good job, Ted Man. I'll put your name up for the Procrastinator's Good Conduct Medal, um, tomorrow. Now, where did they hide the ball?"
"It's inside the middle of one of those round study-carrel things in the Great Hall."
"Oops. Everybody out of the pit!"
This time, they were able to use the much simpler 'door' method of passing between the pit and the world beyond. So they did.
"Wait a minute, what about The Sonic Blaster?"
A small contingent of CRAP was sent back up to the top of the pit, where they found Sonic, still curled up on the ground, muttering at a quasi-coherent level.
There was much rejoicing.
The main body of the CRAP squad successfully located the basketball where the engineers left it, and after an abortive attempt to extricate it by blowing up the carrel, they used the simpler method of dangling a volunteer (okay, Noggin) over the hole in the middle while everyone else held his ankles. The operation was a success, and the CRAP squad retired to the Common Room for recuperation and Cokes all around. Substantial concern was shown for the welfare of the injured Sonic Blaster.
"Should...blow...up...moon...should...buy...big...bag...M&Ms...movie night...must...rent...'The Firm'..."
Everyone agreed, finally, that he was back to normal.
Episode 1: The Saga Continues
© Copyright 1995 Genuine CRAP productions. All rights reversed.